Out of the dark night-time mist outside the city walls walked the stranger. With a clear gesture to the guards atop the watchtowers, the huge, rotted wooden gates to Scrimhaven swung open. The stranger took several steps forward, each careful and deliberate, stopping short of the gate’s threshold. He slowly looked over the ground, searching for wire. He took a step through the gate. His leather boots made deep tracks through the snow, wiped away moments later by the tattered tails of his heavy overcoat, worn under his black riding cloak. The street was desolate, with rubble and gutted old market stalls scattered around, making it feel more like a ghost town than the capital of an empire.
The street wound its way in a long line through a maze of indiscernible, snow-coated houses and alleyways, each path and escape route quickly building in the stranger's mind. On the horizon, the stranger could see the manor. Once he got there, he would make sure no traitorous filth in that house would be left breathing. A small rock hit the side of his boot. The stranger halted, his feet sinking deeper into the snow. He turned to his left, his gaze finding the messy rats nest of a child’s hair peeking out from the top of a decaying barrel. He yelled from behind the pathetic defense, ‘Leave my city alone!’ his voice sounded like a cricket chirp on the howling wind.
The stranger pivoted to face the child and stepped towards him slowly. The kid stumbled back, frightened. The stranger kneeled in front of the child, whose back was pushed up against a wooden pillar in front of the old house he was sitting in front of. The stranger’s face wasn’t visible through the crystalline lenses of his porcelain mask, the long, raven-like beak protruding from the dark hood of his riding cloak. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He reached into his back pocket, pulling from it a golden coin. The kid’s body relaxed, his face going from a frown to a nervous smile.
A pair of thin arms wrapped around the kid, pulling him away from the stranger. He looked up to see the gaunt face of a human woman, her eyes filled with fear. ‘You stay away from my child!’ she told the man, turning, child in hand, to go into the door of her house. The stranger, lingering to stare at the door as it slammed shut, then stood up, brushing the snow from his knees. He left the golden coin on the dark wooden planks of the house, continuing his walk down the street. What had he expected?
The town had completely quieted upon his arrival. No clanging of hammer on iron reverberating through the streets, no horses hauling carts down the street, no barkers and charlatans yelling on street corners. Only closed shutters and a heavy air of fear, but not of his. He gazed up at the manor once more, peering through the falling snow at the study window. A figure was looking down on him. The man, seeing the stranger had seen him, turned and walked out of eyesight. Good. They knew he was coming.
As Garrik made his way down the wide, marble stairs of the manor, he entered the grand hall, carefully maneuvering past two towering guards encased in intricate, iron-plated armor. Positioned in a rigid line facing the imposing double doors, their hands clenched firmly on the leather-bound hilts of their weapons, their presence added an unmistakable air of uneasy anticipation to the room.
The opulent grand hall, usually adorned with exquisite mahogany armoires and elegantly crafted tables, had been rearranged to accommodate the vigilant sentries and archers. Every piece of furniture had been pushed to the side, allowing ample space for the security detail to maintain a watchful eye toward the entrance to the manor. Garrik walked to Durlan's side, asking in a flat tone, ‘Doesn’t it seem like overkill? All these soldiers to eliminate one man?’
‘You haven’t seen what he’s capable of, have you?’ Durlan snapped at his butler. ‘Why don’t you try and deal with them?!’ he continued, delivering several sharp pokes to his elven butler’s chest. Three loud knocks tolled through the great hall. Durlan’s finger and fist froze in the air. A blanket of silence fell over the grand hall. Durlan turned to the door, his face slowly morphing from a look of anger to fear. He reached for his belt, wrapping his hand around the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his chain shirt. ‘Garrik, would you mind?’, he said in a shaky voice. Garrik walked to the double doors and reached for the door handles. Garrick cast a sly smile back at Durlan. Durlan stared at him. ‘What are you waiting for? Open it!’
‘Goodbye, sir.’ Garrik said. Two guards seized Durlan’s arms, hauling them forward towards the door. Durlan yelled, ‘What is this? Garrik, release me at once!’ Unperturbed, Garrik laughed and flung the doors open. A man entered, bringing with him a rush of icy air and swirling snow. As he stepped into the room, the sconces and the grand chandelier flickered and faded into darkness, leaving only the dim light streaming in through the open door, illuminating the terrified expression on durian's face as he looked up at the concealed face of the stranger.
‘Please, just please, listen to me! I’ll do anything! Anything you want, just let me live!’ the stranger looked down at the cowering, hunched elf. His hair was grey, and his eyes were full of something like fear. Like fear, but worse. He had been thinking of this day for 40 years. The stranger unsheathed his iron blade shimmering in the icy, grey sunlight. He raised the blade, resting the edge on the skin of Durlan’s neck. Durlan relaxed, his shoulders slumping. He closed his eyes. The stranger tightened his grip on his weapon… and sheathed his blade. He turned around, leaving the door wide open as he started walking to the city gate. Garrik looked at the man as he walked to the gate. He heard the wooden gates closing with a boom, and with that, a new world was born.
sooo, four and a half years ago, I started my first D&D campaign, and it's still going. I'm a writer, and with help from my players, I'm adapting it into a novel. if Y'all wanna read it, it'll be out when I finish it. I don't know when that will be, but hopefully soon. I'll update you. bye!
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Out of the dark night-time mist outside the city walls walked the stranger. With a clear gesture to the guards atop the watchtowers, the huge, rotted wooden gates to Scrimhaven swung open. The stranger took several steps forward, each careful and deliberate, stopping short of the gate’s threshold. He slowly looked over the ground, searching for wire. He took a step through the gate. His leather boots made deep tracks through the snow, wiped away moments later by the tattered tails of his heavy overcoat, worn under his black riding cloak. The street was desolate, with rubble and gutted old market stalls scattered around, making it feel more like a ghost town than the capital of an empire.
The street wound its way in a long line through a maze of indiscernible, snow-coated houses and alleyways, each path and escape route quickly building in the stranger's mind. On the horizon, the stranger could see the manor. Once he got there, he would make sure no traitorous filth in that house would be left breathing. A small rock hit the side of his boot. The stranger halted, his feet sinking deeper into the snow. He turned to his left, his gaze finding the messy rats nest of a child’s hair peeking out from the top of a decaying barrel. He yelled from behind the pathetic defense, ‘Leave my city alone!’ his voice sounded like a cricket chirp on the howling wind.
The stranger pivoted to face the child and stepped towards him slowly. The kid stumbled back, frightened. The stranger kneeled in front of the child, whose back was pushed up against a wooden pillar in front of the old house he was sitting in front of. The stranger’s face wasn’t visible through the crystalline lenses of his porcelain mask, the long, raven-like beak protruding from the dark hood of his riding cloak. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He reached into his back pocket, pulling from it a golden coin. The kid’s body relaxed, his face going from a frown to a nervous smile.
A pair of thin arms wrapped around the kid, pulling him away from the stranger. He looked up to see the gaunt face of a human woman, her eyes filled with fear. ‘You stay away from my child!’ she told the man, turning, child in hand, to go into the door of her house. The stranger, lingering to stare at the door as it slammed shut, then stood up, brushing the snow from his knees. He left the golden coin on the dark wooden planks of the house, continuing his walk down the street. What had he expected?
The town had completely quieted upon his arrival. No clanging of hammer on iron reverberating through the streets, no horses hauling carts down the street, no barkers and charlatans yelling on street corners. Only closed shutters and a heavy air of fear, but not of his. He gazed up at the manor once more, peering through the falling snow at the study window. A figure was looking down on him. The man, seeing the stranger had seen him, turned and walked out of eyesight. Good. They knew he was coming.
As Garrik made his way down the wide, marble stairs of the manor, he entered the grand hall, carefully maneuvering past two towering guards encased in intricate, iron-plated armor. Positioned in a rigid line facing the imposing double doors, their hands clenched firmly on the leather-bound hilts of their weapons, their presence added an unmistakable air of uneasy anticipation to the room.
The opulent grand hall, usually adorned with exquisite mahogany armoires and elegantly crafted tables, had been rearranged to accommodate the vigilant sentries and archers. Every piece of furniture had been pushed to the side, allowing ample space for the security detail to maintain a watchful eye toward the entrance to the manor. Garrik walked to Durlan's side, asking in a flat tone, ‘Doesn’t it seem like overkill? All these soldiers to eliminate one man?’
‘You haven’t seen what he’s capable of, have you?’ Durlan snapped at his butler. ‘Why don’t you try and deal with them?!’ he continued, delivering several sharp pokes to his elven butler’s chest. Three loud knocks tolled through the great hall. Durlan’s finger and fist froze in the air. A blanket of silence fell over the grand hall. Durlan turned to the door, his face slowly morphing from a look of anger to fear. He reached for his belt, wrapping his hand around the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his chain shirt. ‘Garrik, would you mind?’, he said in a shaky voice. Garrik walked to the double doors and reached for the door handles. Garrick cast a sly smile back at Durlan. Durlan stared at him. ‘What are you waiting for? Open it!’
‘Goodbye, sir.’ Garrik said. Two guards seized Durlan’s arms, hauling them forward towards the door. Durlan yelled, ‘What is this? Garrik, release me at once!’ Unperturbed, Garrik laughed and flung the doors open. A man entered, bringing with him a rush of icy air and swirling snow. As he stepped into the room, the sconces and the grand chandelier flickered and faded into darkness, leaving only the dim light streaming in through the open door, illuminating the terrified expression on durian's face as he looked up at the concealed face of the stranger.
‘Please, just please, listen to me! I’ll do anything! Anything you want, just let me live!’ the stranger looked down at the cowering, hunched elf. His hair was grey, and his eyes were full of something like fear. Like fear, but worse. He had been thinking of this day for 40 years. The stranger unsheathed his iron blade shimmering in the icy, grey sunlight. He raised the blade, resting the edge on the skin of Durlan’s neck. Durlan relaxed, his shoulders slumping. He closed his eyes. The stranger tightened his grip on his weapon… and sheathed his blade. He turned around, leaving the door wide open as he started walking to the city gate. Garrik looked at the man as he walked to the gate. He heard the wooden gates closing with a boom, and with that, a new world was born.
sooo, four and a half years ago, I started my first D&D campaign, and it's still going. I'm a writer, and with help from my players, I'm adapting it into a novel. if Y'all wanna read it, it'll be out when I finish it. I don't know when that will be, but hopefully soon. I'll update you. bye!